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Word count: 3005

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐎 pace around the room as Diego sat down at the small table.

Elizabeth frowned, watching Five rub the back of his neck as his eyes shifted from object to object.

"Of course Dad would be involved in the assassination," Diego muttered, his eyes fixated on the ground. "I should've known."

"No," Five immediately rebutted with a shake of the head, "you're jumping to conclusions." 

"What else is he doing standing on the grassy knoll" —Diego's voice rose as he stood up— "holding an open black umbrella on a sunny day in Dallas the exact same moment the president gets shot?"

Five stopped pacing and turned towards him. "It doesn't look good, I admit."

"No" —Diego looked back at the frozen video— "he's the signalman for the whole goddamn thing."

"Easy, Diego," Elizabeth murmured, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Seriously." Diego brushed her hand off of his shoulder as he shook his head, his voice lowering. "No, it makes sense. This is what Hazel was obviously trying to tell Five. We have to stop Dad from killing the president."

"Diego, calm down, all right?" Five pleaded before giving an exasperated sigh. "Dad was no Boy Scout, but presidential assassination?" He shook his head. "It's never been his thing."

"How would you know?" Diego jeered as he stared at him. "You skipped out on his golden years."

"Skipped out?" Five repeated incredulously. He stepped closer to the other man, the volume of his voice dropping as he questioned, "You think I had it easy, Diego? I was alone for nineteen years."

"We don't have the time for this right now." Elizabeth placed a hand on either man's chest, causing them to stop glaring at each other and look toward her instead. "He's clearly in Dallas, right? Let's just go talk to him. Maybe he can help us fix the timeline."

"Dallas is a big place," Diego pointed out as he straightened up, his voice returning to normal. "We need to find him first."

"Gee," Five scoffed, "if only we had some magical, old-timey way of finding people and their addresses."

"I'll get it," Elizabeth sighed. It was still in her room from the time she had spent pouring over each address and phone number in search of any of the missing siblings.

She grabbed the thick, baby blue phonebook from the top of the dresser, and brought it back over to the kitchen. She dropped it onto the small table, and Diego immediately flipped it open and began to ruffle through the pages.

"Let's start simple," Five suggested, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked up next to Diego. "His name."

"Hargreeves . . . Hargreeves . . . Hargreeves . . ." The other two leaned over Diego's shoulder as he searched through the 'H' section of the names. "Shit, nothing here."

"Try his company," Five tried again. "D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co."

Diego furrowed his eyebrows as he turned to face Five, his expression morphing into an incredulous one as he turned through the pages. "Yeah, I know the name. Thanks." He turned back to the book. "Uh . . ." he murmured as he went through the pages. He landed on one, his finger trailing down to the name. "Holy shit. 'D.S. Umbrella. Eighty-two Olive.' Let's go."

He walked off, pushing the projection screen back up so that only the handle remained, dangling from the frame.

Elizabeth and Five followed him, and they could hear Elliott's muffled cries as he called out towards them. Elizabeth paused in her spot and turned around to free him, but Five quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her along.